


orange

by autisticandrewminyard (transtwinyards)



Series: pride challenge [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, aaron's a physiotherapist!!!, and kevin's an artist, it's a small au it's nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/autisticandrewminyard
Summary: One time, when Kevin brought bagels to an appointment, he smiled, thanked Kevin, and never said anything else within the whole session, but Kevin was sure that it was just him being polite. The guy didn’t like talking much, and Kevin was fine with that but… well.He was cute.





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The physiotherapist that replaced Abby on her sick days had calloused hands.

Kevin learned this, once, when he first met the guy on an appointment he had to set up the last minute. His hand had started hurting above a five in a one to ten rating.

Considering that it had only been a few weeks after he was released from the hospital, it had him shook.

Abby Winfield, at that time, wasn’t in the office, according to the peppy nurse, when Kevin called a few minutes before going, but her replacement was in and he was free for the day. It was said in a sly tone that had Kevin suspecting… something.

Kevin didn’t think the guy liked him much though. Of course, they met more often than not, because Abby liked going to do charity work in pediatric offices sometimes, and she never really set out a note for her many patients. Her assistant wasn’t really the best at keeping track of her work either.

Kevin and the replacement dude never really talked, rarely had more than five seconds of eye contact, and he often addressed Kevin by “Mr. Day” despite Kevin’s insistence to be called by his first name.

One time, when Kevin brought bagels to an appointment, he smiled, thanked Kevin, and never said anything else within the whole session, but Kevin was sure that it was just him being polite. The guy didn’t like talking much, and Kevin was fine with that but… well.

He was cute.

His coat said _Aaron M._ He introduced himself as Dr. Minyard and insisted on being called as such.

(Listen, if the guy didn’t want to call Kevin by his first name, Kevin wasn’t going to bother addressing him properly back. Payback’s a bitch.)

“Why’s Abby out today?” Kevin asked, focused on not flicking the rubber band around his fingers out of reach.

Aaron shrugged. “Everyone in the office’s been betting she’s finally gonna use her maternity leave at some point.”

Kevin blinked. “Is she?”

Aaron gave him a look, but didn’t answer. It wasn’t a loss, seeing as Kevin wasn’t really interested in an answer.

“Scale of one to ten?” Aaron asked.

Kevin considered the white scar tissue stretching thin across the back of his hand. “Three.”

By rote, Kevin listened the scratch of pen against paper.

“Does it hurt throughout the day, still?”

“Not much anymore, but if I hold onto something for too long, my wrist starts hurting. On the train yesterday, it hurt when I held on to the handle.”

“Get a car, maybe,” Aaron said.

Kevin glanced up from his exercise, then dropped the rubber band into his other hand, handing it back to Aaron.

“You do know I’m not on the wealthy side, right?”

“I assume so,” Aaron said as he twisted in his desk chair to grab the weight by the corner of his desk. “If you come to this clinic to Dr. Winfield, you’re definitely on the broke side.”

Kevin grabbed the weight with his good hand once it was handed to him, then eased it to his left hand. He leaned back on his chair to start the exercise, his eyes focused on his hand, still. Sometimes, when he’s not looking, it did things he didn’t want it to do, like drop a brush or a pencil he was holding while working on his illustrations.

It wasn’t very convenient, considering.

“Does Abby regularly take in broke cases?”

“She takes in Wymack’s broke cases.”

Kevin glanced up at him, and when he saw Aaron staring back at him, he looked back down. “Speaking from experience?”

“You can say that. Do you need more weight?”

Kevin gave a few more flexes, then nodded.

When Aaron extended a hand out for the weight, Kevin transferred it back to his good hand and put it down on Aaron’s palm. Part of him was aware that it was _way_ too much contact to just pass off one thing and that it was the oldest trick in the book, but Aaron gave him one look, then turned around to grab a heavier weight.

“I’m an artist,” Kevin said, because thirty minutes was enough to know that if Aaron didn’t ask, Kevin would never find another chance to tell him. “This broken hand’s my dominant one.”

Aaron turned back around, passing the weight off by the handle. Kevin extended his good hand out for it, and was surprised when Aaron did the same thing he did.

Aaron met his gaze, unreadable. Kevin blinked a few times, averting his eyes as he settled the weight back into his left hand. He didn’t feel chastised or embarrassed, but his chest felt light. The lines were too blurry for this.

With a sigh, Aaron asked, “How did the fracture happen?”

“Don’t sound so interested about it,” Kevin deadpanned.

“Listen, buddy, you got me in a corner here.”

Kevin laughed, leaning back in his seat as he did his wrist exercises. “Yeah, okay. Let’s just leave it to three words: my foster brother.”

“Hm, mysterious,” Aaron said. “I’ll solve you yet.”

Kevin scoffed, “What are you, a doctor or a cop?”

“My twin brother’s a cop.”

“Yeah right.”

“Exercise’s done. Gimme the weight.”

Kevin blinked, then handed him the weight. There was considerably less skin contact this time, but there was a quirk at the corner of Aaron’s mouth that seemed to rearrange him in Kevin’s eyes from _substitute physiotherapist_ to _actual human being_ , and honestly? That was enough to warrant some more subtle flirting.

Aaron checked a few things off on his checklist, put the pen down on the table.

“Do your usual exercises and the pain might fade within a week. If anything goes wrong, the clinic is open twenty-four hours. You already know which pain meds to take, if you need them.”

Kevin nodded. He stood up from the couch and retrieved his coat, glancing over to see Aaron checking his watch. He looked up to meet Kevin’s gaze and said, “We’ve got fifteen more minutes, and I’m in for my break afterwards.”

Kevin blinked. Aaron remained silent, but the look on his face was a little expectant, so Kevin asked, “Wanna go out for coffee?”

“You read my mind, Mr. Day.”

Kevin laughed. “It’s Kevin, you asshole.”

“And it’s still Dr. Minyard.”


End file.
